Worth It
by GreenBeen
Summary: A series of moments with the Cohens and Ryan. Very cute or so I think and very AU. A much younger Ryan is living with the Cohens as a foster child.
1. The First Day

**The First Day**

Disclaimer: I own everything…Oh wait. Strike that. Reverse it. I don't own anything, none of the characters are mine, etc.

Okay, here's my first offering to I hope it works, I'm pretty technologically impaired. It'll probably be three parts (maybe four?), each dealing with one day with Ryan and the Cohens as he settles in. Reviews, especially with constructive criticism are appreciated!

When Sandy opened the door, he saw exactly what he was expecting to. Marian Engel, a social worker, and behind her, a blue-eyed, tow-headed, scrawny little boy, looking out apprehensively from bangs that shielded most of his eyes and clutching a backpack tightly with both hands.

Kirsten walked up behind Sandy. After almost a year of thought, they had decided to become foster parents. For Sandy, so he could have yet another outlet in which he could direct his self-imposed need to change the world for the better. For Seth, so he could have a friend, brother, and playmate; also, to give him a glimpse of life outside of Orange County, where all children weren't as lucky as he was. And for Kirsten, so that – well, mainly because she felt that was what her family needed, but also, just slightly, to piss her father off.

And now this kid that they had spent so long preparing for had finally arrived.

"Hi Marian," said Sandy jovially. "Good to see you again. And you," he added to his new charge who looked about ready to make a run for it, "must be Ryan. My name is Sandy, and this is my wife, Kirsten. Come on in."

As they stepped into the foyer, they heard a shriek, followed by footsteps clamoring down the stairs. "Is he here? Did he come? Why didn't anyone _tell_ me?" Ryan looked up to see a boy, about his own age with curly brown hair and a huge smile plastered across his face, approach him. "Hi, I'm Seth. You must be Ryan. Mom and Dad said you'd come today. But they said you were five, like me. But you don't look five, you're too short. How old are you?"

Ryan glared at him, putting masking his previously apprehensive look with a glare. "I _am_ five. I turned five in June." Seth shrugged. "Okay, if you say so. Have you seen your room yet? It's so cool! Hey, Dad, what time is it? Is it time for Power Rangers yet? Do you like Power Rangers, Ryan? I do. My favourite is—" "Seth!" Sandy exclaimed. "Seth," added Kirsten, "let's get Ryan settled first, okay sweetie? Then we can have some lunch, and _then_ you guys can play, alright?"

"Fine," replied Seth with an exaggerated sigh. "Come on Ryan, I'll show you your room." "Alright," replied Ryan uneasily, sneaking a glance back at the adults. Seth led Ryan up the stairs, while Sandy and Kirsten stayed behind with Marian.

"You guys are lucky," said Marian as soon as the boys were out of earshot. "Ryan's a really sweet kid."

"He looks terrified," said Kirsten.

"He's had a pretty rough life, for such a little kid. You guys get a copy of his file," Marian explained, handing Sandy a thick folder. "It's basically the same stuff we went over when we met last week. Dad's in jail, Mom's an alcoholic and a junkie with a string of abusive boyfriends. This is his first foster home. It can be scary, and he's probably tired – I was told he didn't sleep at all last night. He's nervous.

"

"We should go see how the boys are doing," added Kirsten after a pause. "We don't want to leave Ryan alone with Seth too long. Once he starts talking, he can be kind of intimidating."

They climbed up the stairs and entered the room Kirsten had spent the past week redecorating. Seth was seated on the bed, babbling happily about horses, while Ryan stood in the middle of the room with an expression of complete awe on his face, taking in his new room.

It was the biggest bedroom he had ever seen, bigger even than his and Trey's rooms in their old house put together. There was a king-sized bed, a desk, dresser, couch, and bookcase, all decorated in a racecar motif. There were posters on the walls, books on the bookshelves, even a racecar rug by the bed.

"Do you like it, Ryan?" asked Kirsten cautiously. "Marian told me you liked cars."

Ryan pulled his gaze from the books and glanced at Kirsten for a moment before lowering his eyes to the floor. "I – It's great. I really like it. Thank you," he said softly, almost in a whisper.

"Great!" replied Kirsten, wringing her hands. "We can go shopping tomorrow, and pick out some clothes, shoes, underpants. And we can buy you some more stuff for your room. We should get you a stereo."

Ryan didn't reply, but nodded slightly, still staring at the floor.

Sensing Ryan's discomfort, Sandy interjected. "Well, I'm starving. Rosa should have lunch ready now. Why don't we head back downstairs and get something to eat?"

"And I should get going," said Marian. They made their way to the kitchen as Marian said her good-byes to Ryan and the Cohens, promising to be stay in touch within the next few days.

Sandy led the way to the kitchen, where Rosa had just finished setting the table. She looked at the family as they entered, giving Ryan a smile when she noticed him. "Rosa," said Sandy, "this is Ryan. Ryan, this is our housekeeper, Rosa."

Ryan looked up from his inspection of the floor long enough to glance up and catch Rosa's smile. He smiled shyly back for a split second before sliding his gaze to his feet.

"Do you like grilled cheese Ryan?" Kirsten asked as they took their places at the table.

Ryan nodded as Rosa put a sandwich on his plate. "Thanks," he said softly. He looked at his lunch. It didn't look anything like the grilled cheese his mom used to make, or his brother made when his mom "didn't feel up to cooking." The bread was brown and had some weird stuff that looked like seeds in it, instead of his mom's generic brand white bread. The cheese was real instead of processed slices, and the sandwich was cut on the diagonal instead of straight across like his mom made it. He took a tentative bite, chewed, and tried to swallow through the lump forming in his throat. The thought of his family, and how he might never see them again, almost made him cry. He blinked back tears and forced himself to take a drink of milk.

"Do you like it, Ryan?" asked Kirsten, noticing his disinterest in his lunch and interrupting Seth's constant chatter about his sailing lessons. "There's tomato soup and salad too. Or we could make you peanut butter and jam."

"No -- no thank you. It's fine," replied Ryan. And as if to convince both Kirsten and himself, he took a huge bite.

After lunch, Ryan was taken on a tour of the house and beach, unpacked his bag, and spent the rest of the afternoon in the pool with Seth, while Sandy and Kirsten watched from the patio.

"Ryan and Seth seem to be getting along really well," commented Kirsten, listening to the boys' shrieks of laughter as they chased each other in the pool.

Sandy agreed verbally, although inside he was less optimistic. He noticed the way Ryan refused to lay a hand on Seth, even when Seth jumped on Ryan's back to hold his head underwater. He noticed how gingerly Ryan handled the pool toys, as if he was terrified he might break one. And he noticed how Ryan glanced over at Kirsten and himself every few moments, to reassure himself of their whereabouts.

Later in the evening Kirsten suggested a movie, despite Seth's complaints that he wanted to show Ryan the new Super Mario Kart game he had just gotten for his Super Nintendo. Ryan's energy had been flagging ever since he and Seth had gotten out of the pool just prior to dinner. Now, although it was barely seven o'clock, he looked as though it was taking all his energy to keep his eyes open but still vehemently declined Kirsten's suggestion that he head to bed early. So they ended up in the living room, munching on popcorn and watching "The Lion King". Kirsten spent more time watching Ryan than the movie, whose head would drop down every few minutes with sleep, only to be jerked up a moment later, eyes wide, blinking, and struggling to focus on the television screen.

She ushered the boys to bed as soon as the movie was over, designating Sandy to help Seth prepare for bed while she waited outside Ryan's door for him to finish changing into his pajamas, heeding his whispered assurances that he "could do it himself". She felt equally useless as she followed him to the bathroom to watch him brush his teeth and wash his face, then back to the bedroom where he climbed into bed. After submitting to a goodnight kiss first by Kirsten, then Sandy, he pulled the covers over his head as Sandy turned off the light and closed the door.

As they were nearing the end of the hallway, the sound of a muffled sob reached them, coming from Ryan's room. Sandy and Kirsten looked at each other, then headed quickly to Ryan's door. Opening it slowly, Kirsten cautiously stepped into the room. "Ryan? Are you all right?"

As soon as the door had opened, the sobs had suddenly stopped, and from the light from the hallway Ryan could be seen wiping his eyes. "Oh, honey," exclaimed Kirsten as she sat on the edge of the bed and cautiously pulled Ryan into her lap. He didn't resist, but all of his muscles were tensed and he sat as far forward and away from her as he could. "It must be scary, coming into a new house, a new family, and leaving everything else behind," Kirsten prompted, hoping to incite Ryan into verbalizing his own thoughts. But Ryan only climbed out of Kirsten's lap and back into his own bed.

"No, it's fine," he said. "I'm alright." He then turned over, so that his back was facing Sandy and Kirsten.

Sandy jumped in. "Are you sure you don't want to talk about anything, kid?"

"No," came the voice from the bed. "I'm tired. I'm going to sleep."

Sandy and Kirsten exchanged a glance. "Okay," Sandy consented. "But if you need anything, come get us. You remember where our room is, right? Or get Seth, and he can come get us."

"Mm-hmm," mumbled Ryan, obviously feigning sleepiness.

Sandy and Kirsten left, and headed to the living room.

"Well," said Sandy, "no one said it would be easy. For anyone."

"I know," replied Kirsten. "I just never really thought about it before. I mean, he wouldn't even let me hold him, Sandy. And he sounded so unhappy, but the minute we walk in the door, everything is fine. Did you see how fast he hid how upset he was?"

"Yeah", answered Sandy, "I did. But honey, you've got to realize this is a process. It's only the first night. It's going to take everyone a while to get used to things. And Ryan's probably not used to that kind of affection, especially from people he just met. He's had a rough life. Give him time."

Kirsten put her arms around Sandy's neck and faced him. "I hope you're right. Because I just got the feeling we're in way over our heads."

TBC


	2. The First Week

**The First Week**

Thanks everyone for your reviews. It's really great for me to know that people are actually reading my story! And for those who commented on how Ryan and Seth didn't sound like they were five, I hope I fixed that and made it more realistic in this chapter. Let me know what you think!

Disclaimer: I still don't own anything. Not even a credit card.

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_Ryan lay huddled under his bed, shaking through the wet pyjamas that were clinging to his skin. Any second now, his mom's boyfriend Jake would find out what had happened to the bathroom, and he would know who had done it._

_Ryan hadn't meant to make a mess. He just needed a way to get rid of his t-shirt before his mom saw the huge rip he had gotten in it playing tag, when someone grabbed him while he was still running. His mom got so angry when he wrecked clothes, because they cost so much money. She had told him that over and over again. So Ryan had tried to flush his shirt down the toilet. He didn't know the water would just keep coming out and coming out. And as he ran around, trying to find something to make it stop, the door had opened. So he hid._

_Now, as he lay under his bed, Ryan heard Jake's deep voice, cursing and calling his name. Angry footsteps, coming closer and closer to his room. Ryan squeezed his eyes shut as his door opened..._

When Ryan opened his eyes, he was sitting up in his bed. But he wasn't in his room, he was somewhere else. His muddled brain tried to make sense of what was going on. He looked around, and relaxed. He was in his new room, with the Cohens. He was in his new bed, his floor was covered with new toys and picture books, and there were all his new clothes hanging in the closet. Jake wasn't anywhere to be seen.

He lay back down and turned on his side, when he felt it. Wet. His pyjamas were wet, and so were the sheets. He sprang up out of bed and looked down at his pyjama pants. He had wet the bed.

Ryan couldn't believe it. He had wet the bed a lot, when he lived with his mom. It made her so angry. She would yell, and scold him for being such a baby. Only babies wet the bed. Then he would get a spanking, or a slap across the face, and a string of words telling him what a bother he was, and how much better her life had been before she had had kids. Eventually he stopped telling his mom when he had his accidents, and told Trey instead. Trey knew how to use the washing machine, and although he always made fun of Ryan, he didn't hit. But now that he was living with the Cohens, he had hoped the problem would be solved. It wasn't.

Now he didn't know what to do. Trey wasn't here, and he couldn't tell the Cohens. Not after how nice they had been to him this week. They would be mad for sure, and Ryan was certain that they wouldn't want to keep a kid who wet the bed. They would send him away.

So he would have to hide it somehow. He turned on his light, then went to his closet and pulled out a new pair of pyjamas, stripping off his old ones and throwing them into a corner. Then he went over to his bed and started taking off the sheets.

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Seth woke up thirsty. He went out into the hallway, intending to go to his parents' room and wake them up so they could get him a drink when he saw Ryan's light on. He ventured in, squinting at the brightness, and was surprised to see Ryan sitting on the bed, struggling to get a corner of the fitted sheet untucked from the bed.

"Ryan?" he asked. "What're you doing?"

Ryan looked up and saw Seth for the first time. Busted. "Nothing. Go away."

Seth saw the bundled pyjamas in the corner and a look of comprehension flooded his face.

"You wet the bed," he said, but his tone was not accusing; he was simply stating a fact.

"No!" exclaimed Ryan. "No I didn't, I was just--"

Seth cut him off. "Don't do that," he said, motioning to the sheets. "I'll go tell Mom and Dad."

"No Seth. Don't!" Ryan finally pulled the corner free, and scrambled off the bed. But Seth was already gone.

Seth ran to his parents' room, and climbed on their bed. He climbed over Sandy to get to Kirsten, waking Sandy up in the process.

"Seth," said Sandy grumpily as Seth shook Kirsten's shoulder, waking her with a start. "What do you want?"

"Ryan wet the bed," replied Seth. "And I'm thirsty."

"What's going on?" asked Kirsten, struggling to take in the situation.

"Ryan had an accident," informed Sandy. "And Seth needs a drink."

"Alright," Sandy said as he and Kirsten climbed out of bed. "I'll get some sheets."

"And I'll get you a drink," said Kirsten. "Come on downstairs with me Seth."

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Ryan debated on his course of action. Whatever he did, he would have to act quickly. Seth would have woken his parents up already. He weighed his options. He could run away. That way, he wouldn't have to face the Cohens. And they wouldn't have to go to the trouble of calling his social worker. But he had nowhere to go. He didn't even know how to get to Fresno from here. So he would have to stay. And he might as well make the best of it. He might be able to figure out how to work the washer. He had seen Trey do it. And if he cleaned up after himself, the Cohens might not send him back.

As Kirsten led Seth along the hallway past Ryan's room she was suprised to see him standing there, a bundle of sheets and pyjamas in his arms.

"Ryan, sweetie, you didn't have to do that. Give those to me, I'll take them downstairs."

Ryan apprehensively handed her the pile, searching her face for any sign of anger. He was suprised when he found none.

"Why don't you go back to your room? Sandy will be there any second with some new sheets."

That was why Kirsten wasn't angry; she left the discipline up to Sandy. It took Ryan half a second to put his guard up. He knew what was coming, but he wouldn't care. He would be tough. As Trey had once told him, he was an Atwood, and that meant that nothing could hurt him.

So when Sandy entered the room with a jovial "Hey kid" and honest suprise when he saw that Ryan had already changed his clothes and taken the sheets off the bed, it threw Ryan for a loop. He was certain he would be sent back, and wondered why Sandy was being so friendly.

"Does this happen often, Ryan?" Sandy asked, as he finished making the bed and crouched down in front of Ryan, at eye level.

Ryan knew enough not to answer. If he said yes, Sandy would be angry. If he said no, Sandy would find out he had lied and would be even more angry. It was best not to say anything. He looked down at a speck on the carpet.

"Hey, what's the matter sport?" asked Sandy after several moments of silence. Moving slowly and deliberately, he put his arms around Ryan and drew him close. "Are you upset because of your accident?"

When there was no reply, Sandy continued. "Because you don't have to be embarassed. It happens to all kids sometimes. _Even Seth_," he whispered, as though sharing a secret. "This kind of thing happens. Especially when you're just getting used to a new house, and new people."

Ryan was so focussed on maintaining his composure that he barely heard what Sandy said. But eventually the contact of Sandy's arms holding him close broke Ryan's resolve not to show fear, and he began to sob.

"I'm sorry!" he sobbed. "I'm so sorry! Please don't be mad! And please let me stay here. Don't send me back."

Sandy was astounded. He held Ryan closer as he cried into his shirt. He hadn't even guessed that Ryan would think they would "send him back".

"Hey, hey," he said soothingly. "It's alright. You're not going anywhere. We would never send you back Ryan. Never."

Listening to Sandy's reassurances, eventually Ryan's sobs stopped and he allowed himself to be led back to bed. But when Sandy tried to tuck him in, "Stubborn Ryan" made a comeback, announcing once again that he could "do it himself." He rolled over, facing the wall, and dismissed Sandy with a "goodnight."

Sandy walked into the hallway, closing the door behind him. He was astounded that Ryan was so insecure. And he was beginning to see what Kirsten had meant the first night Ryan had stayed with them. This kid was going to need a lot of everything: time, attention, hugs, patience, praise. But it was just the kind of challenge Sandy lived for.

TBC


	3. The First Month

**The First Month**

So here's the next installment. Sorry if it's a bit too short for everyone's liking! Once again, thanks to everyone for their reviews, I really appreciate them. The next (and final) chapter should be up sometime next week, hopefully by Thursday or Friday. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters, titles, etc.

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Sandy sat on one side of the couch, Kirsten on the other, with a sleeping Seth in her lap.

It was now late afternoon, and Ryan had been in his room, asleep, since shortly after lunch. Both boys had been kept home from school with the flu, which was spreading through their kindergarten class like wildfire even though school had only been in session a week.

"Hi, sweetie," said Kirsten. Sandy tore his eyes away from the television and followed Kirsten's gaze to the foot of the stairs. There stood a pajama-clad, tousled haired Ryan, whose heavy eyes focused on Seth and Kirsten, with an expression on his face that Sandy couldn't quite place.

"Hey there, big guy," said Sandy, making his way over to Ryan and crouching down so he was facing him at eye level. "How're you feeling?" he asked, putting his hand on Ryan's forehead to feel for a fever and waiting for Ryan's standard reply.

"Good," Ryan replied softly.

"Do you want something to eat? You didn't have much lunch. How about some toast? That shouldn't hurt your tummy too much."

"I'm - I'm not very hungry."

"Alright then," continued Sandy affably. "How about some juice? And you're due for some more Tylenol too."

Ryan nodded, and Sandy scooped him up and carried him into the kitchen. He set him down on the counter, and as he moved away, Ryan's hands, which had been clenching Sandy's shirt, were now clamped tightly around his neck. Noticing the look of terror on Ryan's face, Sandy gave himself a mental slap. "Sorry kid. I forgot. Let's go to a chair." Ryan _hated _heights. Even small heights, such as the countertop, were enough to drain the colour from his face. Come to think of it, he was surprised Ryan had allowed himself to be carried. When Sandy had taken the boys to the park the week before, Ryan had refused to go near the swings, slides, and jungle gym, preferring the sandbox instead. No amount of cajoling from Sandy, or whining from Seth, had changed his mind.

Sandy gathered Ryan in his arms again, picking him up off the counter and setting him down on a seat at the kitchen table. "You just sit tight," he said, and went on a search around the kitchen. He came back with a cup of juice, some chewable Tylenol, and a thermometer.

"Temperature first." He stuck the thermometer in Ryan's mouth, with instructions to keep it under his tongue. He studied Ryan as they waited for the beep. He looked so tiny, sitting at the table in his racecar pajamas. He had filled out a little, in the three weeks he had been living with them, but he was still thin, and short for his age. Although with the way he'd been eating for the past couple days he was sick, they were probably back at square one. He and Kirsten had taken Ryan to their pediatrician shortly after he'd moved in. Routine stuff - height, weight, physical, blood tests. They left with a set of dates for future inoculations and a diet plan to help Ryan pack on a few pounds.

The thermometer beeped, and Sandy took it out of Ryan's mouth.

"102.1" said Sandy.

"What does that mean?"

Sandy smiled. "It means you're still sick. Here you go," he said, handing Ryan the Tylenol. "Chew them up really good." After the pills came the juice, which he sipped on half-heartedly.

"Okay, kid, are you going back to bed?" asked Sandy as Ryan finished his juice.

Ryan looked at the floor. "Can I…" He stopped for a moment, then seemed to gain courage. He looked Sandy in the eye and asked quickly "Can I sit on your lap and watch TV?" He bit his lip and looked at Sandy apprehensively. "Or…or I could go to bed. It doesn't matter."

Sandy laughed, and scooped Ryan up. "Of course you can sit with me, kid. Anytime. Let's go."

Sandy sat down on the couch next to Kirsten and Seth, setting Ryan on his lap. Ryan sat ramrod straight near Sandy's knees, looking throroughly uncertain of proper snuggling etiquette.

"Here Ryan, sit a bit closer," cajoled Sandy, sliding Ryan closer to his upper body. "Lean against me."

Ryan did as he was told, albeit apprehensively. Sandy could feel that every muscle in Ryan's body was tensed, and although he appeared to be leaning against Sandy, they were barely touching.

In an effort to get him to relax, Sandy started to slowly rub circles on Ryan's back. Ryan startled at the first contact, but then slowly began to relax as the minutes passed.

Kirsten watched with both amusement and dismay at yet another reminder of how different the two boys were. Seth was completely unguarded with his parents; he never hesitated to climb into an open lap, digging his pointy bones into their thighs as he made himself comfortable no matter how bad the timing might be. And when asleep, she could string him up by his toenails and he wouldn't even bat an eye. Ryan was a different story altogether. Even when he was sick, he kept his guard up, awakening the instant someone set foot in his room and flinching at every unexpected touch.

"You know Ryan," Sandy began after a while, "you don't have to be scared to ask for anything. If you want to snuggle, or somebody to rub your back, or anything, just tell us. Kirsten and I love you so much, and --"

"Sandy," Kirsten interrupted.

Sandy gave her a look, and continued. "We love you just as much as we love Seth, and we would do anything for you, kid. We want you to be comfortable with us, and I know it takes time --"

"Sandy," Kirsten interrupted again.

"What?" asked Sandy, raising his eyebrows.

"He's asleep."

Sure enough, when Sandy looked down at Ryan's face, his eyes were closed and his breathing steady. He was aware that Ryan's body was now slumped against his and felt like a hot water bottle. The kid was so small, and at this moment looked completely helpless. Sandy was suddenly struck with the realization that he was now responsible for him. He couldn't change what had happened to Ryan in his past, but whatever happened to him now would be because of himself and Kirsten. As with Seth, his actions would shape the person Ryan would become.

Sandy settled against the couch, just as "The View" came on the television. He looked with dismay at the remote control, resting on the far side of the coffee table, definately out of his reach. He _hated_ "The View". But there was no way he was moving now. Not for the world.

TBC


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